


Sparkle

by 2d_dating



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Gen, Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24403786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2d_dating/pseuds/2d_dating
Summary: When your grandmother passes away, she leaves you an apartment with a peculiar addition to the family shrine - a little vase with a dried flower and a name handwritten and taped to the side - Koushi. When odd things begin to happen around your apartment, you can't help but picture that maybe your friendly little ghost is helping you around the house. But who is this spirit and why won't he leave your apartment?TW: Character death, alcohol use, NSFW (Y/N is assaulted but it stops before it gets anywhere), timeskipped charactersThe reader in this fic is gender neutral.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Reader, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Sugawara Koushi/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Honestly I’m not sure where I’m going with this but I decided to release it in little parts rather than one big old chunk cause I feel like this is gonna be a long one. I think it’ll most likely be three parts. 

Re: references to the family shrine in this fic - my great-grandparents had an altar like this as well, but they were definitely the less religious type and my grandparents didn’t follow up the tradition so most of what I’m using is based on what little they’ve told me, mixed in with a bit of what I found about shrines in Japanese homes. Absolutely no disrespect is meant to anyone following any religious practices, and I apologize in advance if this offends you in any way. 

**TW: Character death, alcohol use, NSFW (Y/N is assaulted but it stops before it gets anywhere), timeskipped characters**

Also yes, I was listening to this on repeat:  [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_7To_y9IAM ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_7To_y9IAM)

* * *

The elevator doors opened and you groaned, dragging your overstuffed suitcase along the corridor until you reached the door labeled number 2 at the dar end of the corridor. You stuck the key in and turned the handle and it swung open easily and silently. The thought made your heart clench. Your late grandmother was definitely the type to keep the hinges oiled.

She had passed away just two months before, but the apartment had been empty long before then. She had spent the last 8 months of her life in a care center closer to your family. You had been to see her every day, and honestly it had given you the time and space to come to terms with her passing, but you weren’t sure how prepared you were to be living in her old home. Still, you were a young professional and inheriting a good apartment in the heart of Sendai was a gift that was far too good to refuse. 

You set your things down on the floor near the door and stretched, finally taking a good look around. The apartment was a small two-bedroom in an old, but well-maintained building in the heart of town. It was old, but built in a Western style with wooden floors rather than the traditional tatami, and spacious in a way that modern space restrictions would never allow. 

The apartment was simply decorated and warm, the walls of the entire space painted a soft off-white that reminded you of parchment. A soft grey rug covered the floor of the small living room, with just one large couch and a small coffee table. Off to the side was a small, low chest of drawers and on top of it, your grandfather’s altar.

You dug a small picture of your grandmother out of your pocket and approached to pay your respects. You knelt down at the altar and reached into one of the drawers, pulling out two sticks of incense. When you looked up to place your grandmother’s picture next to your grandfather’s, you were surprised. Next to the bowl under your grandfather’s picture was another bowl, placed simply in front of a small vase containing a dried flower. At first you’d assumed them all to be offerings for your grandfather but now that you looked at it, it didn’t make sense for there to be two incense bowls. Taking a closer look at the vase, you saw a carefully handwritten label with just a first name - Koushi.

Maybe it was how tired you were, or maybe some deeply repressed superstition, but you found yourself reaching into the drawer for another stick, placing two in a shared holder for your grandmother and grandfather and another in the holder in front of the flower. You lit the sticks with a lighter from the drawer and placed your hands together, bowing deeply to the shrine.

“Grandpa, grandma,” you began, then had to pause to clear your throat. “Ah, I promised I wouldn’t cry. I’m sorry. Dad said he’d be coming by to pick up your shrine in a few weeks, but I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you for this amazing gift.”

You bowed low to the picture of your grandfather. “I’m sorry, Grandpa, I know your shrine has been lonely for a while since grandma came to live near us, but I’ll do my best to keep it lively until dad can take over.”

“Grandma,” you said, turning to her picture. “I’m sorry I don’t have a frame for you yet, this is the picture I always carry with me. I can see how much you loved this house and make sure to look after it for you. I miss you, and I love you.”

Finally your eyes fell on the little flower in the vase and the name - Koushi. It felt a little strange to leave him - if it was a “him” - out of the ritual now. 

“Umm… Koushi-san,” you said, bowing to the vase as well. “I’m not sure if that’s the name of a person or a pet or - are you the flower in that vase? I’m sorry you’ve been lonely too. Grandma must’ve been praying for you too and I bet it must’ve been quiet while she was gone. I guess I’ll keep praying for you too, until I can figure out who or what you are.” 

Bowing once more to the three of them, you closed your eyes and felt a sense of calm wash over you. To be honest you weren’t sure what you were doing, just miming the actions you remember your grandmother having done years before, but it still brought you calm and you hoped that somewhere, wherever they were, their spirits would appreciate it. 

Moving in was a fairly smooth process. Your grandmother had been a practical woman and had done a damn good spring cleaning towards the end of her life, leaving just the essentials and you found that your things fit right in. Your father had taken away the important keepsakes and come to pick up the shrine and it was finally starting to feel a little bit more like your own space. 

Three months later, you were back into the full swing of work. Deadlines you had been putting off around the time of your grandmother’s passing had bitten you hard in the ass the moment you’d gotten back to work and the pace hadn’t let up until tonight. You’d finally completed a big project and decided to go drinking with a few friends from work. It was Friday, no important deadlines were expected for the next week and it was a good opportunity to let loose. 

You had all eaten a bit too much and had a bit too much to drink and before you realized, it was far too late for your co-worker Kana to make the trip home. You offered her the guest room in your apartment and you both stumbled through the front door, laughing about how tipsy you both were. You kicked off your shoes and both flopped into the couch in the living room.

“Hey, Y/N-chan, what’s that?” Kana asked, pointing to the chest of drawers in the corner. 

“Oh, I almost forgot about Koushi-san,” you said, somehow managing to rush over without tripping. You dug some incense out of the drawer and lit one, putting the lighter off to the side before sticking it into the little pot in front of the vase and bowing deeply. Kana watched you, intrigued but keeping respectfully silent throughout your ritual. 

“Who’s Koushi-san?” Kana asked when you made your way back to flop onto the couch next to her. 

“To be honest, I don’t know,” you shrugged. When I moved in, I found that little vase and flower next to my grandpa on the shrine. It seems my grandma had been praying for someone named ‘Koushi’ for a while.”

“But the shrine isn’t here,” Kana said, gesturing at the plain chest of drawers. 

“Yeah, my dad took the shrine, but it didn’t feel right to stop praying for Koushi too,” you said. Your cheeks were on fire. The more you talked, the weirder it sounded. “It’s just a dumb thing I do.”

“I think it’s cute,” Kana said, poking your cheek. “I’m sure wherever he is, Koushi appreciates it too.”

The rest of the night was lost to giggles and gossip about your workmates and you both fell asleep on the couch, Kana’s head on your shoulder. At some point during the night, you found yourself starting awake. You thought you’d heard something and blinked blearily around you, you caught a little swish of movement out of the corner of your eye and heard a small click. You looked over at the chest of drawers and didn’t notice anything was amiss, the alcohol still in your system dragging you into the depths of sleep once more. 

It wasn’t until morning that you noticed the lighter had been returned to the inside of the drawer.

At first it was small things like that - little things that made you question your memory. Your papers you’d left messy on the desk would be in a neat pile the next morning, the clothes you could’ve sworn you’d tossed to the floor before you showered were placed on the bed, the bag you’d tossed carelessly next to the couch was placed neatly on the seat. Then it was bigger things - the window you’d left open before your nap would be closed once you woke at the sound of the thunder outside the window, a glass of water placed on your bedside table in the night.

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe just a weird attempt to stave off the fear of a potential poltergeist? But began imagining that your helpful little spectre was Koushi, and you thanked him for help whenever you lit the incense in his little holder. You began to speak to him, telling him little stories about your day and somehow it made you feel happier to have something to ascribe the odd happenings to, even if it was something you’d never breathe to another soul. After all, it was probably just all in your head… right?

Winter soon arrived and along with it the holiday season. You smiled politely at Kana as she chatted away about her boyfriend and their plans for Christmas.

“You know, Yuuji has a friend that I think you’ll like,” she sing-songed, fixing you with a stare that just meant trouble. She had been trying to set you up with a laundry list of her boyfriend’s friends ever since you met and honestly most of them had been a bit of a wash. It’s not that they weren’t nice but your heart just wasn’t into it. 

Work and the move had done a real number on you but… maybe it was time after all. It had been long enough and to be honest you just really wanted to get laid. 

You agreed to meet with them at a bar nearby your house after work and you rushed home to change. You were glad for the excuse to break out the more exciting clothing you’d never wear otherwise. You fixed your hair in the mirror and smiled, you knew you looked good. You were almost out the door when you realized you’d forgotten something. You rushed over to the little altar and lit a stick of incense in the holder and clasped your hands together.

“Koushi-san, I’m gonna apologize in advance for the noise and for bugging you but tonight, I’m going out to come home with someone and I am going to  _ have sex _ ,” you said melodramatically, bowing deeply. You raced to the front door and called over your shoulder. “Forgive me, Koushi-san for thy roommate will sin and hopefully sin repeatedly. Wish me luck!”

You had decided to meet at a jazz bar in the city dinner and drinks and Kana-chan excitedly introduced you to a friend of a friend of a friend. By the fourth drink you honestly didn’t remember his name, but you knew you wanted to take him home. You began dancing at the bar and the hot slide of his palm along your back made you weak. A few whispered words into his ear was all it took and you were leaving the bar with a wave to Kana-chan and making out in the back seat of the cab back to your apartment.

You opened the door and he was on you, kissing you breathless, his hands firm on your sides as you backed into the wall in the entryway. Suddenly, you came to your senses and realized you hadn’t restocked on condoms since you’d moved in.

“Hey,” you asked as he kissed your neck. He bit into the soft skin and you moaned. “Hey, did you happen to have any condoms on you?”

“Hmm?” He hummed against your shoulder and bit into the flesh there too, his words slurred by drink and the press of his lips against your skin. “No, don’t you have any stocked up?”

“I didn’t happen to get any lately,” you said, you pushed him away slightly but he pressed into you harder, the bulge in his jeans pressing into your leg. “Can we just stop and get some?”

“What? Why? I’ve got you right here, right now,” he breathed against your ear, grinding into your hip. The buzz was slowly leaving you, the icy chill of fear replacing the warmth of the alcohol in your veins.

“W-wait,” you protested, your hands went up to push on his chest. He grabbed them and pinned them against the wall above your head with one of his own. “Hey, stop! I said stop, this isn’t funny anymore.”

You were just gearing up to knee him hard in the crotch when something suddenly flew and crashed at his feet. The small bowl you were sure you’d left on the coffee table this morning was now shattered in pieces on the floor. 

“When someone tells you to  _ stop _ , I think it means  _ stop _ ,” a male voice came from around the corner, towards the kitchen. The man loosened his grip on your hands and looked past where you could see into the darker kitchen area of your apartment. He clicked his tongue angrily. 

“You didn’t tell me you had a roommate,” he snarled, pushing off of you and walking out the door, carelessly stepping over the glass all over the floor. He slammed the door behind him and you leaned heavily against the wall. 

Full on panic was setting in now. You may have gotten rid of the oaf but you had no clue who else might be in your apartment. Slowly you pushed yourself forward, one hand still on the wall for comfort and support. When you rounded the corner you found yourself face to face with a young man dressed simply in a white button up shirt and black slacks. His silver hair was tinted all kinds of colors from the lights of the stores outside your window and his kind brown eyes were fixated on yours. 

“Hi, Y/n,” he said, his voice was soft and melodious. He gently reached out a hand. “Are you alright?”

“W-who are you?” you managed to mumble out, still too afraid to take his hand. He smiled awkwardly at you when you refused to take his hand and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“This is gonna sound weird but I’m Koushi.”

You screamed. 


	2. part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the delay on this everyone! I was stuck for a long time not really being able to work the perspective for the reader insert, and it only took shape once I changed to Suga’s perspective. So here’s part ii! I hope you enjoy it <3
> 
> Definitely the soundtrack to this is basically the soundtrack of Your Name. Especially this piece. 
> 
> Contains: Character death, alcohol use, NSFW (Y/N is assaulted but it stops before it gets anywhere, implied sex but no gender/sexual parts are mentioned), timeskipped characters, gender neutral reader. 

Koushi was being selfish. He knew he was, but he couldn’t help himself. 

The moment you had screamed, he could already feel his form slipping. He had tried to explain what was happening but his physical shape slowly dissipated and you were left staring at the blank spot where he’d been standing. He tried hard to at least respond to you with his voice when you called his name, but throwing that dish had taken most of the strength he’d had left.

It had been three days since then. You’d taken some time off work to stay home, claiming to your bosses that you were sick. Honestly if they saw you now, they’d have to agree. The first night, you cried. You cried for so long and it broke his heart to see you that way but he just didn’t have the strength to do anything. 

He watched, helpless and guilty as you cleaned up the glass from the broken plate. You soldiered on, picking up the pieces of the rest of your life slowly and diligently. He wished he could help. He’d been getting stronger now that you’d been making regular offerings but since that night, you’d only lit one stick of incense for him and his powers still felt drained and stiff.

You were sleeping, lying on your side, hand still clasped loosely over your phone, the tank top you wore to bed falling off your shoulder. He took a deep breath and pooled his strength in his right hand. He reached forward and gently pulled the blanket over you. 

“Yes!” he whispered and did a little victory dance. Then suddenly he paused. He reached out, the sight of your soft hair was just far too tempting... and his fingers couldn’t grasp it. 

* * *

You shifted, eyes blinking blearily and finally locking onto him. A ray of moonlight was streaming through your bedroom window and your eyes lit up in recognition.

“Koushi!” you said, your voice awestruck. He was surprised you could see him at all. You reached out to try and touch his hand, still outstretched to you, but where you both expected skin to meet, your fingers easily passed through. He watched you as his reflection in your eyes faded and was replaced by tears. 

When you woke up the next day, he saw you move like you were on a mission. You ran over to your little make-shift altar and lit two sticks of incense and bowed, eyes fixed on the little label stuck to the vase. 

“I never got around to thanking you,” you said. Hands clasped, reaching out with your heart as much as you could. He felt the warmth of your wishes wash over him as the little strength he got from the incense began to seep into him. “Thank you for helping, as always, Koushi-san. I don’t know how all of this works but I’m going to see how I can help you too.” 

You came home a few hours later with three large bags of groceries. One of which was entirely made up of fridge magnets.

“I know you can move things,” you explained as you painstakingly arranged the alphabets and random shapes all over the fridge door. When you were done, you set a small offering or oranges before the vase and clasped your hands together. “Please, if you’re here, if you can hear me, please try.”

It took some getting used to and a few more offerings of fruit and mochi, but soon he found himself able to trade messages with you at least twice a day. You’d leave your offerings and ask him your questions, sticking a post-it to the fridge to help you both remember.

_It was an accident._

_I was 23._

_I was a teacher._

_I lived next door._

_I loved your grandmother._

_I lost my parents._

_She watched out for me and Daichi._

“Who is Daichi?” you said one day, writing the words as you spoke them onto a post-it as you say at the altar. “Was he your roommate? Your boyfriend?” 

_Boyfriend_ , he replied later. _I loved him so much._

“Where is he?” you asked, when you woke the next morning. “Is he okay?” 

He’s alive, Koushi replied. He left the apartment. I don’t know.

Koushi bit his lip as he slid the last letter into place. The truth was... he was starting to forget. He loved Daichi but his last name was a faded memory now. He held faces in his heart - a tall, muscled man with long hair and a kind smile (Asahi, it sometimes came to him in the morning sun), a beautiful girl with glasses and a beauty mark by her lip (Shimizu, whispered in the first drops of summer rain) and Daichi’s soft dark eyes, warm like the coffee he liked to drink. 

But things were fading much faster than he would’ve liked. The last names of everyone he used to know were some of the first things to go, then the names he used to call them. The longer he stayed, the less he remembered of specifics - he no longer remembered the name of his schools, the street he used to live on. Things fade with time, he knew, but that things would fade so quickly was scaring him. 

He tried to reign in the chill spreading from his being to permeate the room. It built and built inside him and spilled out like fog, spreading over the counter tops. The moonlight streaming in the kitchen window picked up every swirl of sadness seeping through his pores. He fell to his knees, head held in his hands, as tears that would’ve once been warm stained his cheeks.

“Koushi?” you called, peering out from your bedroom door. You must’ve felt the chill from your bedroom. He was preparing himself to pull more letters together to spell out an apology when he noticed you were staring at him. “I can see you.”

“You can see me?” he parroted, equally stunned. Suddenly, you ran forward and fell to your knees, arms wrapping around his shoulders and warmth flooded his being.

“I can feel you?” he gasped, voice still thick with tears and disuse. “Why can I feel you? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” you said, wiping away his tears with your finger, even as your own escaped the corners of your eyes. “I don’t know, I felt the cold from my room, so I came out and I’m so glad to see you!”

He cupped your cheek and gasped at the feel of it in his palm. You gently lifted your hand and ran your fingers through his hair. His gasps turned into sobs. 

Touch. How could something so simple make him feel so much. You pulled him in and his forehead came to your shoulder and you held each other, the moonlight making a little island on the kitchen floor.

“Thank you,” he said, the words the chill of a breeze against your neck.

“Thank _you_ ,” you said, your sigh of relief, the warmth of a summer’s day washing over his shoulder. 

That first night, neither of you moved much, bathing in the pale light and simply being able to touch, to feel, to be. Taking turns to dissolve into sobs, taking turns to run trembling fingers over slivers of skin, content to be wrapped up in each other.

It was moonlight, you realized, when a few nights later, he was standing in your kitchen again. The rain of the past few days giving way to a cloudless summer night, painting your kitchen with that frosty pale glow. The next day, you called into work that you were extending your leave with your personal time, and you took it upon yourself to remove every single curtain in the living room and kitchen. 

He loved you. Feelings had always come fast and rampant to Koushi, and even more now that feelings were all he had. The need to love and protect Daichi, wherever he was, and the need to love and protect you. You cared so damn much, doing so damn much for him and he didn’t know what he did to deserve it. The implications of your situation were obvious, but you were allowing yourself to fall as much as he was - a perk of his current form. He could feel it, the little flame that burned in your heart when you saw him, that lit your eyes when you stirred from sleep at his touch. He knew all this and still he allowed himself to run away with his feelings - smiling, laughing, sharing and loving. 

He was truly selfish, Koushi knew, when three weeks later, his lips pressed against yours in a pale imitation of a kiss. He was rotten when he allowed you to press him into the floor, when he moaned as he felt your lips press softly against his collarbone. He was downright diabolical when he cried out, your name like a prayer from his lips as you both found your climaxes and fell to the floor. 

As you lay in the dark, the wind from the open windows letting goosebumps ride along the skin of your back, you asked the question he had been fearing the most.

“Why are you here, Koushi?” 

He froze, then sighed, his fingers resuming their trek across the constellations on your back. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he teased. Desperately trying to stifle the panic that was threatening to put out another chill.

“No,” you protested, poking at his side and making him giggle, the chill dispelled at your touch. “It’s just... you’re still here and I want to make you happy, if I can.”

“You already make me happier than I deserve.”

You kissed his chest over his heart and settled into his side again. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, after a pause. “It’s hard to remember.”

“Well maybe I should put it this way,” you asked, your finger tracing a line slowly down his chest. “I know you can’t leave the apartment but if you could, what would you do?”

He closed his eyes, questioning, prodding all the little pieces of energy left inside him.

“I would find Daichi,” he said. The answer came naturally to his lips, startlingly so. “I need him to know it wasn’t his fault.”

“Does he blame himself for what happened?” 

“It was a drunk driver,” Koushi shrugged.

“That can’t be his fault.”

“It was a kid he’d apprehended once but he let him go on a promise to turn his life around.”

“Oh.” Your brow furrowed and your finger began making more complicated circles across your chest. “So he’s a police officer?”

“He must be.” 

“What if we could find him?”

“I think I’d like that.”

And so you searched, sewing the threads of his memories together over midnight conversations and cups of coffee. Daichi was far too common a name to go on, and Koushi no longer remembered his last name or the characters used to write them. He remembered he used to play a sport - something with a court and a net and was played indoors, and had in fact been on a team that went to nationals. He had gone to school and university here in Miyagi and had been teaching at an elementary school. 

You asked question after question, slowly gathering information. You mined and mined until one day you finally struck gold - a random phrase he kept bringing up when he talked about his juniors - “烏合”. 

A disorderly mob.

A murder of crows.

“Crows? Wait, Karasuno!” he said excitedly. “Karasuno, that’s what it is! That’s the name, that’s the school!”

You hurriedly typed it into your search bar and suddenly there it was - a picture of his team at the national volleyball tournament. At the side in jersey number 2 was a younger, very much alive version of the ghost standing next to you. 

“Sugawara Koushi,” you said, reading from the list of names as he peered over your shoulder. “That’s your name! Sugawara Koushi and there’s someone here, Daichi, Daichi…. There! He’s-“

“Sawamura Daichi,” his hand was raised, half covering the smile. He beamed and it was almost as if he was actually glowing, a mist of happy tears threatening to spill over onto his cheeks.

You threw your arms around his waist, hugging him as he laughed and buried his face into the top of your head, taking in the scent of your shampoo.

“Thank you,” he breathed. 

_BANG BANG BANG._

The sound of the door jolted you both. 

“Y/N, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW-“ Kana’s angry voice came through the doorway.

“Ma’am, please,” a man’s voice interrupted, trying to placate her. “Maybe we need to-“

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN,” she shouted. 

“Did she say she was coming?” Koushi asked. You picked up your phone, realizing it was the first time you’d really looked at it in a few days. 

“Ah shit,” you ran an agitated hand through your hair. 27 missed calls.

“OPEN THE DOOR!” She sounded like she was getting even more hysterical. 

“I’m coming!” you called, hurriedly tossing on some clothes so you wouldn’t have to answer the door in your god-awful pyjamas and putting a few stray cups in the sink. 

You approached the door and could still hear her having an agitated conversation with someone outside but it was hard to make out. Koushi stood around the corner of the wall to the kitchen, just out of view, just in case. You exchanged worried glances and he shooed you towards the door.

“Ma’am, I know you’re worried but you need to calm down.”

“I just need to know that my friend is okay.” She sounded like she was crying and a sharp stab of guilt made your heart ache. 

You pulled open the door and she immediately launched herself at you, wrapping her arms around you and sobbing into your chest.

“You’re okay,” she sobbed dramatically.

“Kana, I’m fine!” you said, awkwardly patting her back. Then you noticed the man standing behind her in the navy blue uniform. “Oh for God’s sake, Kana, you called the police?”

“She was really worried about you,” the officer took off his cap and suddenly you froze. He looked older, time and age and loss making him somewhat gaunt and severe where he’d been softer in the photo, but there was no mistaking it. Heck, he hadn’t even changed his haircut since high school.

“Daichi?” you gasped.

“How do you know my name?” he said, stepping forward. Suddenly his eyes darted over your shoulder and all of the color drained from his face. 

Daichi screamed.


End file.
